


Steve Rogers Has Talent

by elsewherewolf



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Humor, M/M, america's got talent, steve would totally win it, where the hell is this going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsewherewolf/pseuds/elsewherewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is pretty sure he's going to pass out as soon as he gets on stage, and Tony completely disagrees with everything that Simon says.<br/>AU, obviously, because Simon Cowell isn't a judge on America's Got Talent.  Also, other reasons.  I think it may be out of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers Has Talent

**Author's Note:**

> my dear evil twin asked for steve/tony involving the cowl. Unfortunately I heard something else entirely. This fic was born. Sorry if it's crap :)

Steve blinks at the camera, feeling slightly nauseous. "I'm sorry... pardon?"

The interviewer's brow lifts, but he repeats the question. "What do you think of the news that Tony Stark has agreed to be a guest judge on the show? How do you think you'll go about impressing him?"

"Uh. I... hadn't heard that news." Steve glances from the interviewer to the camera again, and adjusts his shield. "I guess I'll just do my best."

"Okay, that's great. Thanks for your time." 

Steve nods and doesn't move for a few seconds, watching dumbly as the crew turn around and head off to find another victim. When they start talking to a girl with flaming red hair and a lime green leotard, he shuffles over to the nearest seat and sits down so quickly that the chair creaks. He thinks he might be hyperventilating. Nobody told him that-  
 _Tony Stark_. Of all people, why did it have to be him?

Trying to make it through his performance with Simon Cowell's eyes on him would have been bad enough, but now he's got to stand up there and do the whole routine with Tony _Stark_ watching?

"I am so screwed."

"Hey, there soldier," a voice purrs beside him. "Chin up." 

He looks up, and just manages to catch himself from pressing back into his seat. "What... uh, what's your act?"

"Isn't it obvious, honey? I'm a singer."

"Oh. Sure. Good luck."

"How about you, handsome?" Kohl-rimmed eyes blink owlishly at him, scarlet lips smiling.

"I-um. Actually I'm not sure if I can... go through with it. It's kind of dumb. I don't think-"

"You could stand on that stage and do nothing for three minutes, hon, _I_ wouldn't buzz a hottie like you out."

Steve feels his face getting warm, and it's hard to breathe all over again. Somehow he's not sure Simon or Mr Stark would agree. "Thanks?" He's saved from further flirting by an energetic young girl wearing a headset and a black 'CREW' t-shirt.

"Steve Rogers, Candice Tucker, Toby Freeman and... uh, Mysteria? You're up next, if you'd like to follow me please?"

"I really don't think-"

Long, lacquered fingernails curve over Steve's arm and he's pulled up out of his seat. "Of course you can, dear. Go out there and kill it."

+

Tony's having the time of his life. Of. His. _Life._ He smirks down the line at Cowell, simultaneously sending yet another message to Pepper while up on the stage a stunningly made up middle-aged drag queen gets a few bars into a Celine Dion number before Simon buzzes him - her - and looks directly at him, waiting for him to buzz out too. But he doesn't, because it's way too much fun to torture the great Simon Cowell with _My Heart Will Go On._

"It's like my theme song!" He yells over the music, hitting send on his phone.

**JESUS WHAT A FREAK SHOW. THIS IS AMAZING. THANKS FOR HOOKING ME UP.**

He can almost feel the disapproval Pepper must be sending his way, so a second later he sends an addendum. **OKAY THEY'RE NOT ALL FREAKS. MAYBE 70/30. 80/20?**

In the end, Simon's glaring and a lethal high note get the best of Tony and he hits his buzzer, the music cutting out abruptly, the singer's voice a surprised half second later. 

"Let's hear from the judges," one of the presenters says, saccharine smile and a loose arm around Mysteria's waist. "Simon?"

"Dreadful. I don't know why _he_ -" he jabs his thumb in Tony's direction, "-let it go on so long. The costume, the hair, the song choice, absolutely dreadful. It's a no from me."

"Sharon?"

"Darling, I'm sorry. I have to agree with Simon, you just weren't that good."

Tony's knee jiggles and he shoves his phone into his pants pocket as his name's called out next. "Hi, yeah. I thought you were sensational. I mean, fearless, and Celine Dion? Cowell couldn't sing Dion if we put his balls in a-" A voice screeches at him through his earpiece and he coughs, loudly. "You get a yes from me, sweetheart."

Mysteria blows him a kiss, but as Stern gives his 'no' vote, seems to deflate a little before tottering off the stage.

Tony fishes his phone back out.

**I THINK I JUST GOT HIT ON BY A FIFTY YEAR OLD DRAG QUEEN. I LOVE MY LIFE.**

He looks up as the next act wanders onto the stage and nearly drops his phone. The audience is already going crazy behind him, and he can see Sharon fanning herself to his left. 

"Hello there," Simon says. "And what's your name?"

"Hi. Uh. My name is Steve Rogers."

"Welcome, Steve, what are you going to be doing for us today?"

"I'm going to, uh. I'm."

Tony starts to grin, and maybe it's a little bit evil, but he leans forward in his seat, rather enjoying the fact that even a hot stud like that is more flustered than anyone he's seen so far.

"You do know where you are, don't you?" Simon says, deadpan.

"Yessir. I'm here to dance. If, uh-"

"Don't let us stop you."

Steve gives a half nod, and a nervous look that seems entirely directed at Tony, and when the music starts, Steve lowers the shield he's carrying (presumably to ward off death glares from Simon and panties from the hoards of screaming women in the stands) and Tony almost swallows his tongue.

He doesn't think he's ever seen anything more perfect, ever. Maybe with the exception of his plans for Stark Tower, the Bugatti in his garage and a pot of steaming coffee first thing on a morning. But apart from those things.

It's a weird mix of urban street style dance which Tony imagines would throw something in his back out if he even attempted it, and a lot of using his shield like a boomerang. And sweaty pecs. 

**NEED TO KNOW ALL ABOUT STEVE ROGERS. TASK JARVIS ASAP.**

Tony hears a buzzer sound and arcs a brow at Simon, turns to see Steve's composure falter, just a little. And then some more when he seems to look right at Tony, notices how intently he's watching and the next time he throws his shield, it's completely off, and-

"Holy-" 

Sharon gasps, the music stops and Steve grimaces, looking slightly dazed, and a _lot_ embarrassed. The presenter doesn't seem to notice, sidling up next to Steve, smile plastered in place.

"Simon, we know you buzzed, let's come to you first, what did you make of that?"

"I'm going to be completely honest and say it was terrible. I'm sure the ladies were distracted by-" Simon waves his hand vaguely, "-all of that, but the shield just seemed superfluous, the choreography was stilted and you don't look like a street dancer! So why you were-"

"I disagree." Tony interrupts. "Completely. With everything he says. And I'm richer than he is, so I'm right."

Tony notices that Steve lifts the shield a little then, and wonders why. He's not exactly going to start throwing _his_ panties. 

Simon's turned to stare at him. "Were you watching the same-"

"Pardon me, Simon, I believe it's _my_ turn to talk." He looks directly at Steve. "I thought you were great. The shield was a novel touch, the dancing was - you're... you're _flexible._ Music was great, I don't know who chose it, did you choose it? Classic, seriously. And I think you look..." Tony trails off, because really, now Steve's actually _hiding_ behind his shield. "I think you look great," he finishes, lamely. It's not entirely what he'd meant to say. More along the lines of _hot as sin and twice as naughty, I'll bet._ But this is going to be aired to the great American Public at some point. "You get a yes from me, anyhow. Sharon?"

He passes the buck, and Sharon's still looking sympathetically flustered, and gives him another yes.

Tony looks down at his phone as it vibrates, and grins. Pepper's _good_. And fast. Suspiciously fast. He almost misses Stern's 'yes' vote, except that even if he had he would've guessed by the way the entire female population gives a standing ovation. And some of the guys, too.

Looking dazed, Steve starts to wander towards the rear of the stage, looks over his shoulder and grimaces again, turning around to go the right way. 

"Bathroom break!" Tony announces, out of his chair and vaulting the desk. Hey, maybe he _could_ pull off some of those dance moves. He's pretty spry for thirty- okay, forty-something.

He scans through the email from Pepper while he walks, through a door and along a corridor. Baseball fan. Old-fashioned. American as apple pie and twice as delicious. A decade younger than him, no serious relationships, actively involved with several arts-related charities, volunteers at his local soup kitchen, and, as Pepper points out at the end of the mail, far too good for someone like Tony.

"Mr Stark?"

"Beat it, kid, I'm on a bathroom break."

"But- The bathrooms are-"

"I know where they are, I'm taking the scenic route. What, are you going to follow me the whole way and make sure I go, is that it?"

He rounds another corner, pushes through another door, and stops.

It shouldn't be sexy, but it is, and he's never been turned on by somebody _getting dressed_ before, and it's only a shirt and it's kind of _no fair_ because it's covering up that _body_ , but still. Steve's half buttoned up when he notices Tony staring at him and freezes. The drag queen who'd been chattering on beside him stops talking and looks at him as well and he - just for a millisecond - doubts himself. A feeling which is easily brushed off when he moves towards Steve and sees how deeply he's blushing.

"Hi there," Tony says, coming to a halt. "Steve, right?"

"Yessir."

"I enjoyed your act."

"I messed it up, it-"

"I _enjoyed_ your act. Take a compliment. Can't be the first you've had."

Pepper's often accused Tony of letting his mouth and everything else run away from his brain and honestly, with a genius brain like his you'd think he would always be one step ahead, but no. It goes into sleep mode sometimes, that's all. Which explains why he's watching his fingers carefully fasten the remaining few buttons on Steve's shirt.

He grins, letting his brain catch up. "My god, you're perfect aren't you? Let's have dinner. Tonight."

"Hey, handsome." Mysteria - it's Mysteria, Tony's pretty sure - curls his hand around Steve's arm. "Go easy, this one's sorta new to the game."

Tony tilts his head, and nods once, decisively, before addressing Mysteria. "Don't let him out of your sight. I'll be back."

+

"What just happened?"

Steve's feeling shell-shocked, and it's not just the bump to the head. "Did Tony Stark just ask me out on a date?"

"You're not unbendable are you, honey? Because if you don't want to go, I'll _gladly_ take your place."

"Huh?" Steve leans back against the dressing table, thinking about those earnest, dark eyes, the deft fingers, the distinctly subtle smell of expensive aftershave. "Huh. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought."


End file.
